Dreaming of You
by PrimeTimeNE
Summary: Some conversations can't wait until you wake up. Yang/Blake. Takes place post-Volume 3 episode 12 'End of the Beginning'


Dreaming of You

* * *

Yang's eyes fluttered open, a cool breeze rousing her from her sleep. Moonlight streamed in through the window next to her bed, assaulting her post-sleep haze. The blonde's mind tried to form itself, straining against the typical post-sleep drowsiness that was no stranger to her.

Yang was not a morning person.

Rolling over onto her left side, her left arm reached out towards her alarm clock. Flicking it to face in her direction, she could barely make out the numbers with the moon's rays shining into her eyes. The clock read '00:00'. Raising her right arm, Yang held out her hand to try and shield her vision from the harsh moonlight.

Her right hand.

No sooner had she seen her fingers, silhouetted against the cracked lunar light source, that Yang realized she was not truly awake. She had had similar dreams since returning home, dreams of a time when she still had both arms. It had been about a month since she had lost her right forearm. That man she had seen, hurting her partner. It had been all she had needed for her semblance to activate, but even her rage hadn't been enough. A clean slice at the elbow had left her maimed and mentally broken. At best these dreams ended up nostalgic, at worst they were taunting.

Yang was in a deep depression. Ever since she had woken up to the sickening discovery the next day and heard that Blake had run away, she hadn't been able to muster her usual cheeriness. What was there to be cheery about anyway? Beacon had been lost. Pyrrha was dead. Penny was dead. Weiss and Blake were gone and Ozpin was missing.

The days came and went. Ruby had tried to talk to her, but there was nothing her little sister could say that she wanted to hear. No comforting words about how she could learn to accept her injury, no stories about messages she had received from Weiss, and no excuses as to where Blake could be or theories on why she left. Her father did his best, bringing her breakfast in bed, staying with her whenever she cried, telling her to take as much time as she needed to come to terms with everything. She really was thankful for having such a selfless and loving dad, but there was nothing he could truly do. Yang's heart ached worse than her arm, the defeat her team had suffered hurt worse than any amputation.

Flexing her fingers, Yang relished the sensations she felt in nerves that no longer existed. She curled her hand into a fist, savoring every movement, worried that she could be pulled from her dream at any second. She reached down with that same hand and pulled her comforter to the side. Bringing her legs towards her to sit Indian-style, she continued to inspect her temporary limb as the moonlight shone in on her. It was all these dreams were good for, she thought, enjoying a moment that she knew would eventually end.

"Yang," a voice said. It sounded somber, but she would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Blake?" the word sounded foreign in her mouth. Unfamiliar. She didn't think she had actually said it since telling Ruby of what had become of her team, any subsequent mentions of her partner being boiled down to 'her's and 'she's.

In her doorway appeared that very 'she'. Dressed in her pajamas, Yang wondered if she had traveled here in her sleepwear before remembering she was dreaming. Blake's yukata swayed a bit with a breeze from an unknown source, her hands clasped together in front of her as she slowly inched her way into the room.

Yang sat in her bed in silence, not sure of how to proceed. This was new. Usually her dreams, from what she could remember of them, only consisted of a few precious moments experiencing her whole self again before she was ripped back to a harsher reality. That span of only a few moments somehow consuming hours of sleep.

Never before though had anyone else made a guest appearance in her night time mind. Before this, at Beacon, she had dreamed of friends all the time. But the past few weeks had beaten Yang down, and the blonde admitted that she had become a good deal bitter, more than she would be willing to tell. She feared that was why no one came to her in her dreams anymore, they did not want to put up with her melancholy.

As the blonde brawler looked on, Blake slid across the room to the foot of Yang's bed. Even in her dreams, Blake moved with all the skill and poise of one of the ninja's from her novels. Golden irises regarding her, Yang realized Blake was asking silent permission and, with a nod of consent, indicated that it was okay to sit down.

Lowering herself onto the bed, Blake had apparently decided to forego her usual skittishness, instead choosing to sit merely a foot away from her partner. For a long moment they sat there, Blake looking pensive as Yang fought the urge to begin whistling a 'this is awkward' tune. Blake sucked in a breath as if she was about to begin, but said nothing, it was obvious she did not know where to start.

Knowing no other way to start, Yang raised her fist and gave Blake a playful punch on the shoulder. Receiving an incredulous look in response, Yang merely stuck out her tongue, before both girls dissolved into a minor fit of laughter.

It felt good to laugh again, Yang thought. Blake always seemed to bring out the good in her. It was always her goal to get the reserved girl to crack a smile or laugh at one of her corny puns. It didn't happen often, but she was always up to the challenge.

Composing themselves, Blake and Yang seemed to remember the current circumstances and the giggles quickly died down. Yang cleared her throat awkwardly as Blake looked intently at the comforter beneath her fingers as if it was the most interesting thing on the planet.

"Yang?" Blake started, the unsure tone of her voice stung the blonde. She did not like the thought that her partner was scared to talk to her about something.

But Yang had questions of her own, she reached forward with her left hand and gripped Blake's hand in her own, ceasing her toying of the comforter fabric.

"Blake, why did you run?" Purple eyes met gold as Yang waited for a response. Blake averted her gaze, trying to focus on anything but the girl in front of her. Her lips parted, then met again, trying and failing to find words to sate Yang's inquiry.

Finally, her stalling tactics having failed, Blake took a single breath before answering. "Because it was the only way to keep you safe."

Yang raised her right hand, closing it into a single pointed finger. Casting it forward, she gave Blake a half-hearted flick to the forehead, the Faunus reaching up to rub where Yang's strike had landed. "You see, that's where you're silly. It's a little too late for safe." Emphasizing her point, Yang began to wiggle the fingers on her right hand, indicating the obvious situation to Blake. "So why don't you just come home and talk to me."

"I can't." Blake interjected. Reaching up, she grabbed Yang's dream-possible hand and pushed it down out of her view, not wanting to see the reminder of what she had caused. "That man is still looking for me. If I come back, I will just lead him back to you. And he will continue to hurt you. And not just you. He will hurt Ruby and Weiss and Jaune and Nora and your father and your uncle." Blake's voice lost its usual monotone as the names rattled off. Yang saw her becoming more hysterical as she seemed to be picturing the possible horrific fates of their friends as she listed them.

Quickly grabbing her partner by her shoulders, Yang attempted to console her. "Blake, it's ok. We can help. But we need to stick together if we're gonna get that guy back for what he did to my-" The girls both looked down at Yang's arm. "For what he did to us." Yang substituted, not wanting to excite Blake further.

Closing her eyes and shaking her head, Blake protested. "No. No no I can't do that. That man is after me specifically. And I am not going to lead my friends to the slaughter just so I can hide behind them. No. I have to face this alone."

"No you don't," Yang pleaded, her grip involuntarily tightening on Blake's shoulders, the girl's velvety hair cascading over her fingertips. "Just come back, talk to me, let me and Ruby help-"

"NO!" Blake said, shrugging her shoulders to release herself from Yang's grip. Yang let her hands drop, shocked and a little hurt by Blake's outburst. Blake refused to look at her, her voice dropping down to a whisper. "I'm sorry, but no. I can't do that."

"You can't protect me by sacrificing yourself." Yang tried again, she did not want to lose this battle.

"Yang Xiao Long, please stop." Blake's voice was weak, her plea barely audible.

"Blake. Let me help you."

"He said he would destroy me."

"I know that."

"He said he would take away everything I loved."

"I know that!"

"He said he would kill you!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Yang screamed, her voice cracking as tears cut through her anger. "I know… and I don't care. I lost an arm for you Blake..." Blake winced at the words, she was responsible for all that Yang had lost. She didn't want the blonde to continue, but she was silent, and allowed her to. Golden irises could do nothing but look at the other girl's comforter as she held in all of her guilt. Yang composed herself, her next words even and calm.

"…I lost an arm for you Blake, and I don't regret it for a second." Blake's eyes snapped up, and they were met by a purple gaze. Yang stared into her partner's eyes, and Blake searched her expression for the doubt, for the mistrust, for the 'you owe me' that she knew must be there… And she didn't find any of it.

"I would lose the other arm and the legs and everything else to protect you Blake," Yang's eyes never flinched, "That… _GUY_! He is responsible for this, not you. And there is nothing that can happen to me that will make me believe otherwise. I don't blame you for this, and you shouldn't either."

Blake couldn't contain tears, her cheeks became stained with salt but her eyes remained locked with Yang's. Yang's right hand drifted up and wiped away the tears, then held her cheek gently. The warmth felt so good, so real.

Blake finally closed her eyes, her voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry Yang. I'm just so sorry that this happened."

Pulling the smaller girl closer, Yang's nurturing nature returned as she scooped Blake up in a hug, the Faunus' head resting on her shoulder as the girl wept. "Sh sh, no need to be sorry." Her hands stroked raven hair. It felt so strange to have use of two hands again, but a good strange. "I just don't want you to keep running Blake. I need you here with me, now more than ever. I- I love you. You're my best friend. And I can't wait to tell you all this in person, just come back to us. Come back to me."

They sat there in silence for a while, Yang merely holding her partner as she cried. After a moment that Yang wished she could freeze forever, the Faunus raised her head, her sobbing subsiding as she straightened up. For the first time since their conversation started, Yang saw her smile. It was a half-smile, one hiding heartache and pity and sorrow and responsibility, but it was still a smile, and the blonde felt her heart flutter that the smile was for her.

"I'm so glad that this world gave me you, Yang," Blake slid her slender fingers between larger ones, capturing Yang's grasp. "After everything I've been through, what could I have possibly done to deserve you? But here you are, telling me how much you believe in me. Offering me unconditional love and acceptance." Tears reformed in her eyes, but this time Yang could tell they were happy tears. "If having to live with the pain and negativity and the violence that the White Fang has brought into my life is the price to pay to have met you, then I am willing to pay." Yang's heart swelled with pride as she listened to Blake speak.

"But I will not lose you, Yang. That man has taken so much from me. I will not let him take you too. So until he is gone, until I can figure out a way to repay him for all the torment he has caused us, then I can't lead him to you." Yang felt Blake's fingers leave her grasp, and suddenly her hand felt number now than when she had woken up and realized it was missing. She wanted to reach out and retake Blake's hand, but couldn't find the strength to lift her arm. It ached and felt heavy. So heavy. "I promise I will come back to you Yang, when the man that hurt my family is dead."

Blake slowly rose, the bed shifting as her weight left it. She climbed to her feet and began to walk to the door. Yang's head began to spin as suddenly her room felt unreal. Distorted. The floor looked warped, and the dresser looked farther away than she knew it should have been. The reflection in the mirror was upside down, and everything outside her window was now in black and white. Yang felt like she had suddenly been dropped into a glitched video game. The only thing that remained undamaged by her dreaming mind was Blake. She stopped at the doorway, her hand resting on a doorframe that curved in and out all the way up, however if Blake noticed she gave no indication of it.

Turning back, she offered one last departing message. "Until I do come back, make me one promise." She offered a smile so loving Yang swore it could have healed her wound. "Promise me that you will live. This life can be cold and cruel and punishing. But it can also be vibrant and beautiful and amazing. You showed me that Yang. You taught me that a full life is living for the good, not the bad. Don't let him take more from you than he already did. Don't let him take _you_ away from you."

The former huntress-in-training tried to will her body up. To chase after Blake. But as her partner's frame disappeared from the doorway, the last bit of raven hair vanishing from view, Yang's strained brain couldn't hold on to the dream any longer. The room began to fall away as sleep slipped from Yang's grasp.

* * *

Yang's eyes fluttered open, a cool breeze rousing her from her sleep. Sunlight streamed in through the window next to her bed, assaulting her post-sleep haze. The blonde's mind tried to form itself, straining against the typical post-sleep drowsiness that was no stranger to her.

Yang was not a morning person.

Rolling over onto her left side, her left arm reached out towards her alarm clock. Flicking it to face in her direction, she could barely make out the numbers with the sun's rays shining into her eyes. The clock read '06:59'. Raising her right arm, Yang held out her hand to try and shield her vision from the harsh morning light.

And saw the bandaged stump where her forearm used to be.

Sunlight continued to attack her senses, her failure at keeping the invasive sun at bay quite obvious as she inspected her presumably real life limb. As she came to the conclusion that she was in-fact awake for real now, Yang felt a hole in the pit of her stomach at the realization that she would not see Blake here.

 _Another reason to prefer the dream world to the real world_ , she mused to herself as she blew a stray hair from her face. It was then that she focused beyond her bedhead and saw something on her nightstand. Something that hadn't been there when her father had turned out the light the night before. Something that returned to her a feeling she hadn't held in what seemed like a lifetime: hope.

On the nightstand beside her bed lay a simple black ribbon.


End file.
